When you are pregnant they refer to the obsessive acts of cleaning, shopping and other minor psychological breakdowns as "Nesting" syndrome. Why is it that pregnant women get labeled with the over-simplified homey terms? Why can't they call it something like "pregnancy induced obsessive compulsive disorder" or "child preparation over-drive." Nesting isn't even calming sounding. It sounds like a little bird chirping and fluttering around hectically with twigs and mud. Of course, Latin terms aren't really calming either, but at least they can be hyphenated. How nice to say "My wife is PIOCD." rather than "My wife is Nesting." At least the relatives would know to avoid your residence at all costs, or at least make sure they didn't have a stained shirt when they came over.
If pregnant women were nesting, they would be employed with construction companies, and busy banging together wood frames, and hanging drywall. Thats not what usually occurs to pregnant women. It is the spots on the wall where furniture rubbed, the dust bunnies in the corners, even the slight discoloration between one section of carpet and the other just grows and grows. These are not constructive items. These are destructive obsessions.
Then there is the shopping. In truth there is very little change needed with a new baby that involves constant purchasing. However, when one is fat and ugly feeling (regardless of what they look like) the word shop is like a sanctified haven of psychological safety. Retail therapy would work perfectly if the cut-throat marketing world hadn't taken a permanent marker and scrawled "sucker" on every pregnant womens forehead. For that reason, there are fifty two billion items that one must have to be a good mother, and these must be purchased BEFORE the baby comes.
Nesting dictates an exciting anticipation. Nesting syndrome is an over-preparation and over-compensation. Babies choose when they come, how they come and what they look like. Superior powers choose the general health and complications. All you can do as a mother is make sure that the crib sheet has no wrinkles, won't possibly give baby diaper rash and the carpet is truly clean. Besides, nesting is a mutual goal, and my husband doesn't seem to have the slightest inclination to either shop or scrub walls. If this were a nesting process, wouldn't he be busy gathering structural material, or at least not giggle when I suggest for the fiftieth time that we re-paint the entire interior of the house?
Change the name, please. "Nesting-syndrome" is not the least bit constructive.